Unearth (The Bound Ones Book 3) Read online

  She could easily seduce him, she knew that, easily make him forget his troubles and lose himself in her. But he was struggling—they all were. He needed her support, not just her body.

  “I love you,” she said, her lips caressing the skin of his shoulder blades as she spoke.

  Sebastian squeezed her arm and his head hung even lower, as if with shame.

  “Sebastian, it’s all right,” she said softly.

  “Is it?” he asked, his voice strangely deep. “Joran is loose. Ayanna’s been taken. The world is on the brink of destruction. Nothing is all right.”

  She wanted to say something to make him feel better, but what could she say? He was right. The future was looking very bleak.

  “I almost lost you today,” he said, his voice much smaller this time. “I wasn’t able to protect you.”

  “We’ve lost each other literally thousands of times,” she said. “We can’t always save each other, history has taught us that repeatedly. How is this any different, my love?”

  He turned around to face her, leaning his forehead against hers. “The rules have changed. The dagger has made us immortal, breaking the cycle of reincarnation forever. If one of us dies now, that’s it, end of story. If Joran kills any of us, there’s no guarantee we’ll ever see each other again. If I lose you, this time it’s for good.”

  Phoenyx cupped his face in her hands, gently stroking his cheeks with her thumbs. “You’re not going to lose me,” she promised. “And I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not the kind of girl that needs saving.” She smirked, appealing to his joker side.

  But it wasn’t his joker side that reacted. He grabbed her face and pressed his lips against her, devouring her mouth like a hungry lion digging in to a feeble gazelle. She responded in kind, the desire she had been resisting flaring to life and taking control.

  Sebastian pressed her against the tiled wall of the shower, spreading her legs to pin her pelvis with his hips.

  “Do it,” he said roughly. “Compel me. I want to feel it, all of it. I need it.”

  It was rare that they ever had sex without her leaking her own lust into him, letting her fire fuel his own desire. But she always restrained herself, and he knew it. She didn’t know what would happen if she unleashed the full force of her sexual power on him. That’s what he was asking her for now. He was desperate. She could feel it in his touch, in his kiss. He didn’t just want her, he needed her, needed the all-consuming release that only her touch could give him. He needed to disappear in her, and she wanted to disappear in him.

  She gripped his back, digging her nails hungrily into his strong muscles, and released all of her power into him. Lust and mind-numbing pleasure consumed both of them as they tangled into each other. Sebastian was louder and rougher than he’d ever been before, and this change drove Phoenyx crazy, enhancing the experience to a degree she didn’t believe possible.

  They must have been in the shower for hours, attacking each other, worshipping each other. In this frenzy, they didn’t have to think about the impending doom looming over them, didn’t have to think about their best friend in the clutches of a monster, they could just melt into their passion. When they were finally too tired to go on, they stumbled out of the bathroom, still soaked, and collapsed into bed. All problems forgotten.

  Ayanna

  She groggily opened her eyes, the swollen ache in her head waking her from what seemed an eternal slumber. The world that came into focus when her eyelids fluttered open was romantically dark, and completely unfamiliar. But then again, everything was unfamiliar. Where am I? How did I get here? ...Who am I?

  The fact that she could not recall her own name was incredibly disconcerting. She could not remember a single thing, her mind was a complete blank, but at the very least she should know her own name. Shouldn’t she?

  She sat up in the bed she had been sleeping in and took stock of her surroundings. She was in a bedroom, but not a modern bedroom, she knew that much. The walls and floor and ceiling were all made up of large stone blocks. In the center of the ceiling hung an iron chandelier with fresh candles at the end of each arm. The scents that filled her nostrils with each breath spoke of dust and mildew, and of sitting water nearby, like a pond or a lake. But there were modern touches that seemed out of place, like the elegantly carved canopy bed she in which she was sitting covered in the finest silk sheets, the electric lamp on her bedside table, and the brand new double-pane glass that had been added to the arched window.

  The contrast between new and old around her made her even more confused and disoriented. Had she gone mad?

  The door opened, and a darkly handsome man entered the room. He was tall and well-built, with short dark brown hair and soft brown eyes. Framing his handsomely chiseled jawline was a shadow of stubble, and it somehow made him look all the more attractive. Though she could not recall his name either, she knew in her soul that this man was as familiar to her as breathing.

  “Good morning, my love,” he said, sitting beside her on the bed. “How are you feeling?”

  “M-my head hurts, really bad,” she replied. “And I… I can’t remember anything. Did something bad happen to me?”

  “You had a little accident, but everything will be fine now.”

  He lifted his hand to her face and stroked her cheek, and she closed her eyes, giving in to an irresistible swoon at his touch.

  “I will help you remember who you are,” he said, and the love in his eyes as he looked at her made her trust him completely.

  “What’s my name?” she asked, feeling embarrassed that she had to ask.

  “Your name is Ayanna,” he answered. “And you are my wife.”

  “Ayanna,” she repeated, the name ringing true in her head. Amazing how one word could hold so much meaning. Just knowing her name made her feel so much more grounded, the empty void in her mind filling in a massive gap.

  She turned to him, hoping that his name would come to her mind now. She studied his face, but the void took over again and her head throbbed in her effort to find something that just wasn’t there.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  He gave her an indulgent smile. “My name is Joran. I am the one true King, and together, you and I will rule the world.”

  “Rule the world?” she asked. How could she rule something she did not know? There was never a person less fit to rule anything than she was right now.

  “Yes, my sweet,” he said. “I know that you have a lot to learn, but I have no doubt that you will be the most glorious queen.”

  He caressed her chin, and in that moment she wanted nothing more than to please him. She would do her best to be whatever he wanted her to be. She needed to earn the love he held for her in those warm brown eyes.

  “Why don’t I remember anything?” she asked.

  “There’s something you have to understand, my sweet,” he said. “My will is absolute, and my word is law. You made a mistake and disobeyed me, and it cost you your memories. I’ll spare you the details because I don’t want you to worry about it. It is in the past, and we get to start fresh. I will tell you everything about who you are, who I am, who we are together, and maybe then you will learn to follow me without question.”

  Ayanna narrowed her eyes in confusion and curiosity. Why would she ever do anything to displease Joran? She may not remember him, but she knew him somehow, deep down, and she knew that she loved him with her entire being.

  What could she have done to lose her memories? Perhaps she had accidentally done something Joran told her not to do and somehow hit her head because of it. What else could it have been? Ugh, I wish I could remember something, anything! She didn’t even know how old she was.

  “This may be a stupid question,” she began, “but how old am I?”

  He chuckled and shook his head. “In your current state, there are no stupid questions. Your body is that of a twenty-four year old, but you have looked twenty-four for roughly ten thousand years.”


  She studied his face, waiting for him to laugh. But his face betrayed no sign of joking.

  “Are you seriously trying to tell me that I’m thousands of years old?” she asked, incredulous.

  “Yes.” He gave a curt nod.

  “How is that possible?” she asked.

  “The world you and I come from is full of magic,” Joran said. “In our world, people can wield fire, heal wounds, and even bring people back from the dead. A very long time ago, a magical dagger made you and me immortal, and the very people we trusted most sealed us in the ground to sleep for thousands of years. While we slept, the world grew dark and cruel. The unjust own the planet. But our loyal subjects found a way to set us free, and it is due to my magic that we will take our rightful place as rulers of this world.”

  “We were in the ground for thousands of years?” Ayanna asked, horrified by the thought.

  The sweet look on his face faltered for a moment, something dark flickering in its place. “Yes, it was a fate that we certainly did not deserve. Be fortunate that you cannot recall it as I do.”

  His brows creased, and Ayanna could tell he was struggling with deep pain and betrayal. She put her hand on top of his, wanting desperately to comfort him. At her touch, he smiled, and knowing that she had brought it on filled her with such joy.

  “You said that your powers will help us rule the world,” Ayanna said. “What sort of magic do you have?”

  “The most powerful magic of all, the power over life and death,” he replied. “I was born as the living embodiment of Soul. I have the ability to bring a recently deceased person back to life or to take life from anyone unworthy of living. I can see the souls of those that have died, and I can help guide them to the plane beyond ours. I can see into the soul of anyone I come across—see their crimes, their desires, their true colors. I was chosen to cleanse this earth, to make it so that the wicked are exterminated and that only the pure survive.”

  His story sounded so fantastical, but despite what must be her natural skepticism, she believed him. She trusted him. Besides, why would someone lie about something like that?

  “Do I have any powers?” She felt incredibly stupid asking, but if she did have powers, she needed to know.

  “No,” he said. “The fates did not bless you with any special abilities. You were given immortality because you were the queen, and because your wisdom was valued above all others.”

  So, she was completely unremarkable in a world full of magic that was ruled by her husband who could raise the dead. That was less than encouraging.

  “Have you… have you ever killed someone before?” she asked, too curious not to.

  “Yes,” he answered without hesitation. “I have always done what’s necessary. Does that bother you?”

  “I… I’m not sure,” she said after some thought. “It should bother me, but I trust you. I’m sure that, if you had to take life, there must have been a good reason for it.”

  He smiled wide, his face lighting up. “You have no idea how happy you just made me.” He pulled her in for a grateful hug, and she melted into his embrace, loving the feel of his arms around her. She felt like she was right where she was supposed to be. In Joran’s arms was where she belonged.

  When he let her go and stood up off the bed, Ayanna felt strangely cold and naked with the absence of his arms around her.

  “Take a walk with me,” he said. “Let me reintroduce you to the world. Then we can have a nice dinner together, just the two of us.”

  “That sounds wonderful,” she said.

  She followed him out of the room. He led her down the hall, slowly, allowing her to soak in her surroundings.

  This was a very old place indeed. On the walls, there were large square sections of caked on dust, as if frames that had hung for centuries were just recently removed. Was she in some sort of castle? Joran claimed that they were royalty, so that would make sense.

  They walked through a labyrinth of hallways, past windows with new glass that streamed sunlight in rays that caught in the dusty air. It was like walking through solid light, giving this stroll a sense of magic.

  Finally, the hallways opened to a landing atop an extravagantly carved staircase, at the bottom of which was an expansive ballroom with huge stained glass windows and embellished chandeliers dangling every few feet above a beautifully polished white marble floor.

  There were people bustling about, some cleaning and taking measurements, some gathered in small group discussions. When Joran and Ayanna approached, the chatter fell silent and all turned to give Joran their full attention.

  “Good afternoon, your grace,” an older man with salt-and-pepper hair said, bowing his head toward them.

  “Thank you, Vincent,” Joran said. “I’m happy to see that you are recovering so quickly from your accident.”

  As Vincent turned around, Ayanna saw that he was leaning on a cane, and that the bottom part of his leg was encased in a cast.

  “No amount of broken bones could keep me from serving you, my lord,” Vincent said. “I have worked all my life to see you in the flesh. I only wish that I could have witnessed your release myself.” The old man’s face wrinkled in a sad frown.

  “It’s alright, Vincent,” Joran reassured him, placing his hand on the old man’s shoulder. “Our enemies have nasty tricks to use against us. You have nothing to feel sorry for.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” Vincent said. He clapped his hands together, changing the subject. “You should know that we have made all the arrangements for tomorrow night. All of our members have been notified and are on their way. The ball will be a truly magnificent event indeed.”

  “Excellent,” Joran said. “Now why don’t you retire for the day and get some rest. The queen and I will see you tomorrow night.”

  Vincent’s expression was a conflicted mixture of insulted and obedient. He clearly did not want to clock out for the day yet, but he also clearly did not want to go against his lord’s instructions.

  He bowed his head again, saying, “Yes, my lord, my lady.” He took Ayanna’s hand in both of his, resting the cane in his armpit to lean on it. “And how are you feeling, my queen?”

  “Um, fine,” she said, unsure of how else to answer.

  “It’s alright, Ayanna,” Joran said. “Everyone knows of your incident. You don’t have to worry about putting on airs. Our subjects are loyal to a fault, whether you remember them or not.”

  “Indeed,” Vincent said. “Well then, I’ll take my leave. Rest well, my queen.”

  He smiled at her before he walked away, and she caught a glimmer of something deep in his eyes. Sympathy? Or was it pity?

  The strange feeling that the moment gave her passed as Joran led her through the large ballroom toward the tall arching doors at the other end.

  “So, there is a ball tomorrow?” Ayanna asked the first of many questions that buzzed around noisily in her empty mind.

  “Yes, a ball to celebrate our return to the world,” Joran replied.

  “And those people—our subjects—they are citizens of our country?” she asked. “What country do we rule?”

  “Not quite,” he said. “As I told you, we were trapped deep inside the earth for a very long time. The people that we ruled formed a sort of fraternity and sought all this time to free us. The fraternity has members from all nations, from all around the world. They are all coming here to swear fealty to our new reign. We are a king and queen without a country, but only for the moment. After the celebration, we will move forward with our ascension and demand the throne of England, the country we are currently in.”

  Ayanna nodded, taking this all in. She felt truly blessed to have such loyal subjects that would fight for them for so long.

  When they reached the end of the ballroom, the tall wooden doors opened and they stepped out onto a terrace surrounded by a lovely colorful garden, beyond which was a towering tiered fountain.

  Birds were singing and crickets were chirping, and the setting
sun was now painting the overcast sky with beautiful bright colors that cast a soft orange glow on everything below.

  “How did we get trapped in the earth?” she asked. “You said that others with magic did it, but why? If we were so loved, why would anyone sentence us to such a terrible fate?”

  Again, his face darkened, and when he looked at her, it was through narrowed eyes. “I asked myself that same question for hundreds of years.”

  Then, just as instantly, the darkness left and his face was bright and handsome again. “The people that imprisoned us were once our friends. They saw the vision that we were trying to create for the world and they didn’t understand it. Humans always fear what they don’t understand. They were afraid of making the changes that were necessary for a better world. So, to keep us from shattering the perfect image they had of an imperfect world, they used the powers our people gave them to bury us.”

  “I see,” she said. “I am glad that I don’t remember being buried all that time, but I hate that you do. It must have been…hell.” She stopped, unable to escape the imagery of mud and clumps of dirt pressing in on Joran from all sides. No light, no air, no sound, just pure nothingness.

  “It was,” he said. He held both of her hands and looked down at them. “For a long time, after the sadness and confusion over the betrayal subsided, all I could think about was getting revenge on those who entombed me. I have always been surrounded by spirits that were loyal to me, and I would send them out to watch my enemies, to report to me what they were doing constantly, and I wanted so badly to escape and crush them. But living with that hatred every second for thousands of years truly does turn one’s soul black. I had to find something else to hold onto. For me, that was you. I thought about you every single day, hoping for the day that I could hold you again, that I could see you again, that I could call you mine.”